As we cruised down the eastern flank of the Rocky Mountains, I knew it was the perfect time to take a detour. As is common on a Backcountry Discovery Route, the Colorado BDR was designed to get us from point A to point B, but not necessarily by seeing the coolest things along the way. There are many reasons for that - which I won't get into here - but in this case, just south of the stage end at Buena Vista, there was a 14,000-foot-tall peak - Mt. Antero - that I'd been trying to reach the top of for more than five years. Defeated the first time by a truck - not mine - that broke down, and the second by a snow drift over the road that resulted in darkness setting in before we could hike all the way to the top, I hoped that my third time up the mountain would be a success.
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We pulled into camp - after a rough ride up a bumpy road that made my hungry passenger no less hangry - a minute or two after sunset. It was raining.
Still, I knew that if we could make it through the next couple of hours - hopefully made a little easier by full bellies - that our night here, followed by a morning climbing our second ever 14,000-foot peak, would be a highlight of the trip. A few hundred feet away, someone started shooting a gun.
Luckily, despite the bumpy roads, rain, and gunshots, things did get better with a bit of dinner, and soon I was downloading photos in the tent while @mrs.turbodb was knitting and listening to one of her favorite podcasts in the cab of the Tacoma.
Camp under Cronin Peak (a mere 13,877 feet tall).
After a couple hours of winding down - quite pleasant in the tent with the pitter patter of rain hitting the fly - it was eventually time for bed. We'd had a long day on the Colorado BDR and after a quick brush of our teeth and washcloth-scrubbing of faces, we made our final planned ascent into the tent for the evening.
Only as I took off my pants and shoved my shoes into our shoe bag did I notice the sky. I hadn't even thought to look up - so sure that it was still cloudy from the earlier rain - but as my eyes turned toward the stars, I couldn't help but notice a bright streak directly overhead.
It's like the clouds cleared just for us!
The following morning...
We were up at sunrise the following morning, not to snap a photo of amazing color on the horizon - we couldn't see the horizon in any direction due to the huge peaks around us - but because we wanted to get an early start on our summit attempt. The 1-mile roundtrip hike from the parking area would be one of the shorter hikes we've done in a long time, but climbing 535 feet in thin air can be challenging in itself!
Up we go. Even "down here" at 12,000 feet, the views are pretty nice!
It turns out we weren't the only ones to get an early start. As we American Hiked our way up the road - via liberal use of the Tacoma's skinny pedal and steering wheel - we passed three groups of hikers, as well as a Jeep that'd gotten on the trail sometime before sunrise. Clearly, we were cheating.
Climbing the shelf road.
Through a white scree field.
Around the back side, a final climb to the parking area.
In both my previous attempts at Mt. Antero, I've never been able to drive all the way to the upper parking area. Therefore, when we arrived - a little after 7:30am - I was jazzed. @mrs.turbodb was a little less so, as I inched the Tacoma out along the ridgeline. There was no danger here - I was actually on the road - but dang if it didn't look like a long way down!
Under Antero.
Probably the highest truck in Colorado. At least for a few minutes!
Let's trade profile pics.
After a few minutes of our little buddy soaring around our perch on the ridge, it was time to ditch the Tacoma - a little closer to the trail - and push up the rocky terrain toward the summit. And so, we found a nice little flat spot - one where we should have camped the previous evening, had we known of its existence - and opened up the still-wet tent so it could dry out as we hiked to the top.
Now a proud member of "didn't sleep there." 
Doesn't look that hard. Turns out looks can be deceiving.
While it's not easy to see from the parking area, there's a nicely worn trail all the way to the summit. This simply means that trail finding isn't something one need worry over - assuming the snow is melted - instead, figuring out how to get enough oxygen to put one foot in front of the other can be the area of focus.
And yet, as difficult as it may be to spend a few hours here hiking, there are plants that - apparently - call this place home. Not many mind you, but those that are hearty enough seemed to be doing just fine.
I liked how this ground cover had nestled itself around the rock.
Not sure I've ever seen a yellow thistle before. (Cirsium scopulorum)
A quarter mile into the hike - halfway in distance, but only a quarter in elevation - a small platform offers hikers a final rest before the push to the top. A place to catch your breath, and then lose it again as you glance out over the colorful range below. Even here, there's little reason to look up, the only thing above is the sky!
Orange in a sea of gray. (Cronin Peak)
And then, the push was on. There are several routes to the top of Antero. While I wouldn't rate any of them as difficult, there are certainly some that are easier than others. The trick is picking the right path at the beginning, since switching mid-climb entails a steep scramble over the field of boulders that are Mt. Antero.
Scouting the ascent with my eyeballs, it was clear that the easiest path was one that wrapped around the backside of the mountain. This was in contrast to the route that a clearly more prepared hiker - who'd just passed us a few minutes earlier - took, following a shorter path directly up the ridgeline.
Guess who made it to the top first? And not even by a small margin. Looking down, our patagonia-clad friend was only halfway to the summit as we soaked in the views.
Made it!
Nearby, Mt. Princeton rose 14,200, but requires a lot longer hike than our summit 75 feet higher.
Pan-antero-rama.
Sometimes it's nice to just sit.
It took a few minutes but soon I was joined at the summit by my hiking companion, quickly intent on sorting out the dozens of peaks we could see all around us. As she did, I approached the other two hikers now also enjoying the early morning views and asked if they would mind my little flying buddy racing into the sky for a few minutes.
Though they thanked me for asking, both of them were totally fine with the flying camera. And also, I'd say, a little curious. So, for a few minutes, I demonstrated my painfully poor piloting skills, the drone warning me the whole time that the air up here was bordering on too thin to keep itself aloft.
Of the four of us on the summit, @mrs.turbodb and I lingered the longest. Perhaps this was because the other two hikers more quickly caught their breath, or maybe it was due to the fact that we had a half-mile return compared to their 7-mile trek back to their vehicles. Whatever the reason, we had the place to ourselves for a few minutes - we could see the hoards on their way up the hillside - and so we just continued to stare off into the distance.
Two little dots.
Alas, we couldn't stay all day. With such a short hike, neither of us brought along food or even water, and we'd left the backgammon board in the Tacoma as well. And so, right around 9:15am, we headed down. Interestingly, the two hikers - who'd taken the hard way up - seemed to have made a note of our approach, and we could see them way ahead of us on the easier path.
The sun was fighting its way through the clouds as we descended.
Back at the truck, the tent was quickly stowed and a quick handful of trail mix consumed. We didn't need much, since our next stop - before resumng the Colorado BDR - would be for lunch in Buena Vista. And then, we were off!
Down the old mining road.
Through a series of switchbacks.
We'd finally conquered Mt. Antero, our second 14er. Time will tell, but it may be our last. We aren't getting any younger you know.
